 You do not deceive me. Hadn't ideas already, Greco? Hand over the knife. Take it. I don't use knives. Indeed. However, it was in your hands, stained with the blood of the sacred Moes and lying dead by your side. Look, don't you know a plant when you see one? Enough. This time you have overstepped yourself, Mr. George. Okay, arrest me. Get it over with. Perhaps that will not be necessary.